Master
by Alex Warlorn
Summary: A POV on a fighter and his Master, heh, not what you think.


A POV on a fighter and his Master, heh, not what you think. 

You're work is an endless well of inspiration Farla. Thank you.   
  
_ I still remember the day my Master became my Master, it is as clear as crystal in my mind. He and his warriors entered the area around my place of residence. I, the brash young fighter, eagerly challenged him to battle. My first enemy I fainted easily enough, my attacks cut through his defenses easily, I would learn later that he was the Master's most inexperienced fighter. The table turned quickly with my next opponent, after the Master had seen me fight, he had learned the kind of attacks I used, he call on a warrior whose defenses would give him the advantage against me in battle. I could of run away, there was nothing keeping me there, except of course my own pride, and honor._   
_ I was soon on the ground. I knew I was beaten. Since I was little I have always been entranced by combat, given my species' nature and history I'm not surprised not more are like that. But it was never the violence that attracted me, or the trill of victory, it was the skill involved, the style of strategy and combat as each Master sent their warriors out to battle one another, to see who was the superior teacher by whose fighter came out victorious. I do not mind that my Master was given more credit than me during these times, though I could see my view was not shared by some, what would -I- do with fame? I battle to improve my skill, and to refine the Art form of combat, not for glory or praise. My Master thanks me and acknowledges I have earned my rest after each bought. That was enough for me when I return to my small bare camber to await more training or another battle._   
_ The first thing my Master taught me when I began to learn under him was to never expect to win any battle alone, or you would lose. The second thing was to always stay focused, to forget the rest of the universe while you clashed with your enemy. True, he also talked about you fight at your best but never for blood, but I knew that already, in good taste however, I decided not to correct him._   
_ A while after I started under my Master, we got a new member. He seemed idealistic at first, but as he matured he became a real hot head, half the time he would ignore the master's advice, and the other half he would forfeit matches because he said the enemy was not worth his time. Our Master did not get ride of him however; he still felt that he could get the fool to see reason._   
_ During one of the matches were he at least fought instead of sleeping right in the arena: his opponent struck him with a move that almost cost him his life. The Master stayed with him all night until he recovered. The next time we met with that Master, they fought again, the same two fighters, except this time the hot head actually listened, and managed to come out thw winner._   
_ About a year later we met with a woman who specialized in the hot head's fighting style, and the Master agreed for him to study under her. When he thought no one was looking, I saw my Master cry to sleep that night._   
_ Several months later the Master and I met in private. He said it was time for me to leave him. He said I was inexperienced when I fought him that first time, now I could fight for myself. He also wanted me to teach what I had learned to others I came across. I was heart broken, for I had become found of him. But I obeyed my Master's orders._   
_ For weeks after I tried to think of what to do with myself. I had been with him so long I felt like I had lost my sense of purpose without him. That was when I saw two children playing in a grass field off the road._

"Ro Marrowack? MaroWackRo?" ~What are you writing Sensei Toshedo?~ Asked the pokemon looking over his shoulder, breaking his concentration on the pen and paper in front of him.   
The ground type was luckily that Toshedo had sensed the pokemon behind him before hand or his sword might of taken the lizard's head off, might, Marrowack's training with Toshedo was not just for show.   
"Just writing down my memories Marrowack, nothing more." Replied the samurai.   
The bone keeper pokemon raised an eyebrow behind his skull helmet. ~Why? Afraid you'll forget them?~   
The human thought before reply. "No, just . . . my story can help others understand their's."   
~Do you really believe that sensei?~   
Toshedo spoke gazing at the blue sky and it's ever changing, ever moving clouds. "I can hope." 

~Fin 

Did I catch you off guard?   
Flames, comments, suggestions, corrections, reviews good or bad, all welcome.   



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